Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 by Karen Whiddon (interesting books to read for teens TXT) 📕

the island and ate his standing up. They shared half a whole grain baguette and he poured a small dish of olive oil for her, smearing his bread with the butter he always left out on his counter, just as his Italian-born mother did in the Colton house. Dominique didn’t know where to put the surge of nostalgia that overwhelmed her. Tears pricked and she blinked, faux-coughing to cover it up. He’d remembered that she preferred salmon, olive oil with her bread. It touched something deep inside in the place she didn’t allow her thoughts to wander if she could help it.

The place that remained exclusively Stanton’s.

CHAPTER 5

Stanton remained standing on the other side of the counter, eating from his bowl as Dominique at first picked at, then appeared to relish, the meal. He hoped that by shoveling his salad into his mouth he’d avoid further dialogue with her. Any kind of communication with Dominique was lethal to his guard, his heart. As they ate he silently cursed himself for allowing her father to persuade—no, manipulate—him to take the case. But he couldn’t lie to himself. Every day of the past two years since they’d been together, he’d scoured not only the news, but the police blotters, the reports, whatever his sister allowed him access to. All in an attempt to ensure no one was coming after Dominique. That she was safe. He’d never stopped worrying about her.

If he dug deeper, he knew it had to do with his regret over forcing the breakup. At seeing the pain etched on her face as she’d comprehended he was ending it. What had he been thinking, throwing a woman like Dominique away?

That worrying about her day and night wasn’t your idea of a good time.

“Thank you for this, Stanton. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” She picked up the paper towel he’d set down and wiped her mouth, her delicious, dark pink lips glistening with olive oil. Napkins were extra accessories he’d let go after she’d left him.

“I’m glad you finally ate something. You needed to eat before we go to the station.” He was about to tell her that he didn’t pick salmon just for her, or that the olive oil on the side was something he did for all his guests. But it would be lying. He’d never forgotten what she’d enjoyed, be it a favorite meal or position during their lovemaking.

He missed being with her, sure, but this overwhelming attraction, persistent thrum of his sexual awareness of her had to be from months with zero dates. He’d tried to find someone else...well, kind of.

“Left-swiping on an app is not dating.”

His older brother Clarke’s sardonic admonishment at a family dinner last weekend echoed in his memory. Clarke was a top PI who often liaised with GGPD and helped Stanton stay in the loop with cases, as appropriate to his protection services agency. His fiancée, Everleigh, had been framed by Bowe for the murder of her cheating husband, so he wanted to see the thug brought down as much as Dominique. But not at the cost of her safety.

Dominique stared at him and he wondered how long he’d drifted for this time. She did this to him. Made him think of things that had nothing to do with the matter at hand. His phone buzzed with a text from Troy. He set down his bowl to read it.

Two thugs hanging out around your building address. Suggest you come up with a different egress than the usual.

Showtime. His mind immediately shifted into bodyguard mode, going over the mental checklist he’d used thousands of times before.

“What is it?”

“Troy’s spotted some suspicious-looking jerks hanging around on Main Street in front of the building. We’ll go out via the parking garage instead of the lobby.”

“They’re here? Now?” He watched her chew slowly, swallow. All the time watching him with the eyes that he was still able to read. She’d been turned on earlier, before Troy showed up. He’d do anything to bring that smolder back into her obsidian gaze. After he got her out of here safely. He hated seeing the fear that flickered in her eyes, quickly shut down by her stubbornness.

“Yes. I’m thinking that he couldn’t get a photo without letting them know he’s on to them, so we don’t know if either one is the jerk who attacked you.” He didn’t bother telling her that cartel thugs were like cockroaches in an apartment. Where there was one...

She speared a cherry tomato. He had to force his glance away from her. No way would he keep his mind on the case, on her dang safety, if he watched her eat. Dominique ate her salad as if she hadn’t a concern in the world. Didn’t she remember the time they’d turned each other into their own personal salad bar, complete with sexual satisfaction?

“I’m not afraid of him, or any of the bullies Pablo Jimenez wants to throw my way.”

“How do you know it’s Jimenez?” He’d heard the name mentioned, read it in police reports, but so far no official pronouncement of the identity of the local cartel’s kingpin had been made. Not by GGPD or any state law enforcement, and the DEA hadn’t come forward with an exact ID yet.

“You’re not the only one with connections at GGPD. Not everyone there thinks the media is the devil. I’m convinced it’s Jimenez who’s calling the shots. I’m going to get to the bottom of all of this. With a little luck, the truth won’t give us justice for only Charlie and his family. It’ll blow the drug ring wide open.”

Her conviction sent a pulse of cold sober fear through him. “Dominique, you’re not dealing with a local gang here. From what I know, you’re correct. Jimenez is a statewide leader. He works for a network of very powerful men, with international connections.” Men who were ruthless when it came to keeping their coffers full of billions brought in by drugs.

“That big network doesn’t